


Wizard and Baron

by Freedoms_Champion



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Battle Ground spoilers, Canon-Typical Behavior, Characters to be added, Developing Friendships, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Harry gets married again, Harry loves his daughter, Insomnia, John likes kids, M/M, Major Spoilers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Harry Dresden, Rating May Change, Sharing a Bed, Sleep Deprivation, TW: brief mentions of past child abuse, Winter Knight Harry Dresden, by accident again, coffee is life for wizards, progress!, the Reds weren't kind to Maggie, wizardly grumpiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 11,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27038374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freedoms_Champion/pseuds/Freedoms_Champion
Summary: The genius loci of Chicago appears in Harry's dream. He didn't summon her, except he might have. It was an accident. Now, the will of his city compels him to team up with Gentleman Johnny Marcone.This is going to be so much fun.
Relationships: Harry Dresden/Johnny Marcone
Comments: 40
Kudos: 122





	1. Claimed

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: SPOILERS. Do NOT read if you don't want spoilers for Battle Ground.
> 
> This is a completed multichapter and I plan to update regularly until it's all done.
> 
> Please enjoy! Comments are welcome and above all, have a fantastic day!

I shouldn’t have been having the dream.

My house had serious wards against anything trying to send me a dream, message, or threat. My work was layered on top of powerful protections that might have been placed by Merlin, so I was sure nothing could get around them. My psychotic faerie godmother, as far as I knew, still had a garden in the Nevernever that would keep anything from reaching me from the spirit world.

I was as safe as it’s possible for a person to be, at least from external tampering. But I was still having the dream.

It was possible, I guess, that this was a normal dream. I have some weird ones, thanks to a lifetime of refusing to look away from the worst things that human and supernatural monsters can do. My subconscious (who is still a jerk) would occasionally drag me down for ominous warnings that I never understood until it was almost too late.

I knew what those felt like, though, and this wasn’t it. The closest thing it reminded me of was when a Fallen angel had lived in my head and sent me dreams when I wouldn’t talk to her consciously.

The being in my dream stood taller than me. We stood together in the street outside my house, with Chicago surrounding us. My leather duster was a comfortable weight on my shoulders, and I leaned on my staff. That was a good sign. If this monster had wanted me helpless in my dream, it wouldn’t have let my mind come armed.

Oh, yeah. My name is Harry Dresden. I’m the professional wizard of Chicago. Since this dream hadn’t started with an immediate fight, I decided to try being polite.

“Greetings. Who are you?” I said. The being looked like it was made of slabs of concrete, shaped more or less like a human. Its eyes were shiny plate glass and I avoided looking at them too closely. Patches of darkness covered its limbs and I realized they were made of asphalt, like the road under our feet.

“Don’t you know me?” the thing asked. To my surprise, its voice came out feminine, with the suggestion of waves on the shore and tires hissing over streets. My brain flipped, like an optical illusion, and I could see the womanly shape of her in the concrete. She was built like a weightlifter, broad shoulders, arms as thick as my legs.

“I think I’d remember if I’d seen you before,” I said without thinking. It’s a problem that I have from time to time, even when I’m trying to be polite.

She laughed. “But you have, my wizard. Everyday, I am with you. Only this once have I taken a form unknown to you.” She regarded me for a moment with those glass eyes before speaking again. When she did, it came out deeper, with the purr of engines.

“I am Chicago. Your home, your territory. The place where all your hopes and dreams have been suckled or dashed. You have claimed me more strongly than anyone has ever dared to. Now, I lay claim to you.”

I did not shiver. There’s no way anyone could prove it, since this was all a dream happening in my head. I also took a moment to think before I opened my mouth again.

The genius loci of Chicago had contacted me in a dream. There should have been no way for her to do that without a summoning. The last time I had summoned something even close to being like her, I had bound myself to an island that turned out to be an epically dangerous prison for supernatural beings. Even then, it wasn’t much of a comparison. Demonreach, the spirit of the island, had been made as an extension of the prison’s defenses, rather than forming naturally as I had originally thought. On top of that, Chicago was just as much a spirit of the human elements of the city as the earth and stones.

“Hell’s bells, lady, why me?” I grumbled.

Chicago laughed again. In it, I thought I could hear the edges of horns and sirens. “There is a balance to these things, my wizard. You are mine, by your own choice and speaking. Now, if I am to be defended, as you say is your goal, a union must be made.”

She moved before I could do anything to stop her. My coat did nothing to stop the roughness of her concrete skin from scratching me. In fact, when she grabbed my arm, the sleeve of my coat just vanished.

“What are you doing? There’s no need for you to do anything; I’ll keep fighting for this town and the people in it,” I protested. I knew better than to struggle. Chicago was stronger than me and I’d only rip my arm up trying to twist it in her rough hand.

“You are not my only defender,” Chicago said. “Join forces with my Baron, Harry Dresden. If you wish to be my wizard, you must follow my will.”

Her hand burned like sidewalks at noon on the hottest day of the year. At first, it sank into my bones soothingly, but the heat quickly built until it burned. I gritted my teeth over a cry of pain. Finally, Chicago let go, her glassy eyes flashing with satisfaction.


	2. Branded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds himself tangled up a little more tightly than usual. The answer: get coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers continue to abound. Please don't read unless you don't care about spoilers.
> 
> Other than that, enjoy!

I sat up in bed, gasping for air. My heart pounded as if I’d been running and Winter screamed in my thoughts. The icy power of the Winter mantle, which bound me to another scary, powerful female who was not going to be happy with me, thrashed in my brain in a bizarre ecstasy. I didn’t understand it, but I knew I had to control it.

So, I caught my breath and shoved the cold, calculating predator back into the cage I’d built for it. Later, I’d go for a run and work out the aggressive energy it was building up inside me.

When I felt steadier, I touched the silver pentacle amulet around my neck and willed it to give light. The blue glow showed me Mister, my grey tomcat, with his ears pinned back and his back arched. It also showed me Mouse, the temple dog who had picked me, standing at the side of my bed.

“You should be with Maggie,” I told him reproachfully. “How can I keep a pooch who won’t even stay at his post?”

Mouse sneezed and reared up, getting his front legs onto my bed. It creaked in protest. Maybe I should have mentioned, Mouse weighed more than I did. He nosed at my left arm; the one Chicago had grabbed in my dream and licked it. The cold, slimy sensation broke up the tingly white noise that the Winter mantle used to register pain.

I moved the wizard light a little closer and felt something unpleasant slither into my belly. Two words had appeared on my skin, as if Chicago’s touch had branded them onto me.

John Marcone.

Oh, boy. This was not going to end well for me. Chicago had, from what she told me, bound me to the other defender of the city, who had claimed it as his territory (with a little unwilling help from me). Marcone was the criminal overlord and demonic hell-spawn.

Well, more like he had a coin that allowed him to be possessed by demonic hell-spawn. I was still reeling from the revelation that Marcone had taken up the coin of Thorned Namshiel, a Fallen angel and master of sorcery. It made him much more of a problem to deal with than usual, all but guaranteeing that the inevitable fight between us was going to be epic in scale.

Naturally, I had made him give me the castle he’d built on the burned ruins of my home by putting him on the spot in front of some serious supernatural players. It was a personal policy to never let predators see when they’ve rattled me.

I touched the name on my arm, and it tingled. The skin was red and slightly swollen, so the brand must have hurt. I just couldn’t tell because I was the Winter Knight. Super.

There was no going back to sleep after something like that. I patted Mister on the head, which he allowed and seemed to consider compensation for disturbing his rest. He curled up in the warm spot I left in the bed and closed his eyes. I put on my heavy bath robe, ruffled Mouse’s ears, and left my room.

The big dog followed me down the hall, claws clicking quietly on the floor. The next door was half-open, where Mouse had nosed it to get out. I looked in while Mouse went back to his post. I couldn’t see anything of Maggie except a tiny lump under the blankets. She slept, undisturbed, and I pulled the door mostly shut again to keep it that way.

Ugh, I needed coffee. There were too many tangled complications around this situation that I needed to think through, and fast, which wouldn’t happen if I turned into a groggy zombie the second the adrenaline wore off. I shuffled through the dim halls of my baby castle, passing rooms I hadn’t found a use for yet and left unfurnished and went to the kitchen.


	3. Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is interrupted from his essential coffee by a knock at the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! The other half of the main cast has finally arrived.
> 
> The spoilers continue.

I’d barely settled down at the table with my coffee to sip and think when someone knocked on the door. Grumbling in wizardly ire, I hauled myself up and went to check who it was.

There weren’t many people who would come and see me before dawn. I was expecting several of them and only one or two would knock. Then again, knowing my luck, it just might be a stranger, in desperate need of a professional wizard who was in danger of being murdered by the Queen of Air and Darkness. I didn’t want to think about how mad Mab was going to be when she got around to noticing what had happened to me. She would be furious that another power had made a claim to me, depriving her of the full support of her Knight.

The castle door didn’t have a peep hole, go figure. I readied my will to fling spells, just in case, and opened the door a crack.

Gentleman John Marcone stood on my doorstep. Slightly orange light from the streetlamp sheeted over him, but I didn’t need it to tell me what he looked like. He had dark hair, dashed with enough salt to make him look mature and trustworthy. Green eyes, the color of old dollars and without a hint of mercy. Boater’s tan, smile lines at the corners of his eyes, and handsome features that would be at home in a boardroom.

That being said, he might have been the most dangerous human I’d ever met. Even before taking up the coin, he had been clever and ruthless, clawing his way to the top of the crime ladder and ensuring the police weren’t motivated to topple him. He’d signed the Accords, the first human to do it, and claimed Chicago, holding it against all comers.

I’d seen him shoot a Titan in the face with a flintlock.

He was wearing a white button up, slacks, and a windbreaker. To my surprise, he was unshaven, and his hair was rumpled, like he’d rolled out of bed, thrown on whatever he could reach, and come straight here.

And he was alone. His hulking bodyguard, Hendricks, was gone now, but I’d expected him to come with Miss Gard, his Valkyrie on retainer. Or a group of troubleshooters, who would shoot me if I gave them any trouble. Or possibly all demony, with Namshiel’s glowing eyes and angel sigil on his forehead.

Instead, he stood on my doorstep alone, shivering slightly because his coat wasn’t heavy enough for the mid-spring temperature.

“Dresden,” he greeted me. “Something has happened, and I believe we must discuss it. May I come in?”

I didn’t want to invite him in. Marcone didn’t have the magical muscle to make full wizard, but with a Fallen angel guiding his spells, he didn’t need to. Namshiel had been working magic for thousands of years and I had only beaten him before by cheating. In a more even fight, I’d lose, and I knew it. If he was invited, there would be nothing stopping him from throwing down if this conversation went sideways.

If I didn’t invite him, I didn’t know what would happen. Refusing the command of a being like Chicago could hurt me. She already had the power to make changes to my body, even behind my wards and my threshold. If I didn’t do what she said, things could get ugly.

Either way, my daughter would be in the middle of things. The only possibility I had to keep her safe was to invite Marcone inside and remind him she was there. In all the years I had known about him, I’d never heard that he would hurt a child. He’d quietly murdered all the criminals who had disobeyed him on it. The only time a child had been hurt because of him, he’d overthrown the killer’s criminal family and taken it over personally. He’d stolen the Shroud of Turin trying to make it right again.

“Come in,” I said finally, opening the door. “Try to keep it down, though. Maggie’s still asleep.”


	4. Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and John talk about their situation.

Marcone rolled his eyes as he stepped through the door.

“Really, Dresden? Do you think you have to resort to emotional blackmail to ensure a peaceful conversation? I haven’t given you a single reason to suspect I mean you harm this morning.”

“Past history tells me otherwise. You’d kill me at the drop of a hat if you thought it was time,” I answered. My coffee was the perfect temperature and I took an annoyingly loud slurp of it.

“So, don’t drop any hats,” Marcone shot back. He walked down the hall to the kitchen without waiting for me, an annoying reminder that he had lived here for a few years. I considered standing there until he discovered I hadn’t fallen into step like one of his flunkies, but it was too chilly. I shut the door and went after him.

Marcone sat at the table and pulled up the sleeve on his left arm. “This appeared after a dream involving a being that called herself the spirit of Chicago. May I have your professional opinion?”

I looked and sure enough, the words on his arm said Harry Dresden. I poked it and got a pained intake of breath, which didn’t give me a petty feeling of accomplishment. Sitting down, I drank some more coffee and thought.

Marcone let me. The silence stretched between us, broken only by the crackle of flames in the fireplace. It felt oddly comfortable.

That worried me. I had never been comfortable around Marcone. Not even when he was on my side of things and I knew he wanted to be there. Only an idiot would look at a tiger beside him and think kitty. Now, I could almost sense his worry and confusion, though he gave no outward sign of it.

“I had a similar dream,” I finally admitted. “Chicago said there had to be balance after I made it so clear I was her wizard. She told me to team up with you.” I made no effort to hide the disgust in my voice.

Marcone’s green eyes fixed on me intently. I didn’t look back, though I could have if I wanted to. We had already gazed on each other’s souls and that made prolonged eye contact fairly safe. Still, I wasn’t willing to risk Namshiel trying to get into my head.

“Did you summon this spirit in some way?”

“Of course not! I’m not stupid enough to try binding Chicago to my will,” I growled. “I already have one mind-boggling, literal-minded genius loci hanging around causing me grief. I didn’t have to. You already know that claiming the city comes with responsibilities alongside the advantages. Clearly, one or both of us stirred up enough magic to get her attention.”

Memories rose in my head of civilians following in my wake and the phantom pain of their deaths. I let it course through me for a moment before pushing it away. The battle had passed, and my daughter needed me to forgive my part in it.

Something similar flickered through Marcone’s eyes. He had amassed his own banner of civilians and gone through the same feelings I had, though I didn’t like to think about it.

“So, what does this alliance entail?” Marcone finally said, clearly pushing away the memories the same way I just had.

“How the hell should I know? I don’t want anything to do with your demon-infested ass,” I replied. It could have come out an angry snarl, but it didn’t. My heroic self-control probably had something to do with it.

“It’s a good thing I wasn’t including my ass in the offer.” Marcone’s voice was cool, but humor glittered in his eyes.

I choked on the last swallow of my coffee and had to spend a moment clearing it out of my lungs. When it was finally over, Marcone was grinning at me. Not his professional little smile that never failed to make me see red or a tooth-edged thing that made my skin itch, but an honest grin that took years off his face.

“Fuck you, Marcone,” I snarled. Heading to the counter, I poured myself another cup of coffee and dumped a generous amount of sugar on top of it. Reluctantly, I pulled out another mug and poured the rest of the coffee into it. Marcone didn’t raise an eyebrow as I slid it across the table to him and cradled my own in my hands.

“Be honest with me, Dresden. How much is this connection between us going to affect daily business?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “So far, I can’t tell if there’s much connection between us. It could go as deep as two-way intellectus or as shallow as groovy tattoos. There are some tests I can run on myself to figure it out. Namshiel could probably walk you through the same thing on your end. Of course, none of that matters if Mab objects. She tends to get a little possessive.”

The coffee cup shook in my hand as I tried to take a drink. I switched to my right to keep old and new burns from doing it to me again.


	5. Maggie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and John conclude their conversation when Maggie wakes up early.

Claws clicking on the floor and soft footsteps made me turn. Maggie stood in the doorway, dark eyes smeared with sleep and dark hair tangled. She rubbed her eyes and stepped a little closer to Mouse, shy as always of meeting strangers. I left my seat at once and went to her.

“Morning, pumpkin,” I said, holding out my arms for a hug. My daughter had problems with unexpected physical contact, a tragic result of watching monsters murder her foster family and take her hostage. No one had told me how much she remembered of the ritual that had nearly ended her life and I was too afraid to ask.

She might remember me sacrificing her mother on that altar.

As always, pain lashed through my chest when I remembered that night and the ones that had followed it. So many people had put their trust in me, and the fallout had killed sixty thousand people in Chicago alone.

Maggie hugged me before I could go too far down that road. I held her carefully and willed the dark thoughts back to the corner they belonged in.

“Morning, Dad,” she whispered in my ear. Under the words was a question: who is that? I weighed my choices and decided telling her was for the best. At least until I got this mess figured out, Marcone would be visiting regularly.

I eased back from Maggie and put one hand on her tiny shoulder, turning so I could see the table. “This is Mister Marcone,” I told my daughter. “He used to live here before we moved in. I have some business to do with him, so he’ll come to visit sometimes.”

“Hello, little one,” Marcone said in a quiet voice. He focused on a point above Maggie’s head, taking the pressure of eye contact off her shoulders. As much as I wanted to hit him most of the time, I appreciated his tact. Then again, I had a feeling he had seen more children like Maggie than I had.

After all, I’d asked for his help to find her and he’d asked several uncomfortably specific questions.

Maggie managed a small wave before burying both hands in Mouse’s fur and hiding against my side. My heart ached for her, but there wasn’t anything I could except patiently help her work it out herself.

“Well, I believe our conversation is concluded for the moment,” Marcone said. He tapped his thumb on the handle of the coffee mug for a moment in thought. “It would be best to leave my personal number if you uncover anything I need to know. I trust you won’t abuse it.”

I rolled my eyes and restrained myself from burning my daughter’s ears off with what I wanted to say. I occasionally slipped with my profanity around her, but I wanted to give a good example and that was the price of it. Marcone wrote the number on a card from his wallet and tucked it beneath the mug.

Nodding crisply to me, he passed us in smooth, unhurried motions.


	6. Mab

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry must face his boss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, more Battle Ground spoilers, so beware!
> 
> Apart from that, have a fantastic day!

After Marcone was gone, I made breakfast for Maggie and me, sharing with Mouse and Mister, when he deigned to grace us with his presence. It made me feel better to see Maggie finally smile and relax.

I left her with Amanda Carpenter and Mouse to babysit and headed into the city. Mab would be wanting to see me and I’d rather she didn’t rip my head off in front of my daughter.

The Winter mantle gave me a sense of where she was and I followed it, walking with my head down, staff thumping beside my foot. I ended up on Lakeshore Drive, at the edge of Lake Michigan. Most of a year’s worth of rebuilding hadn’t done much to fix the gaps in the skyline, but the broken concrete had been hauled away. Waves lapped on the shore, without showing the carnage that the National Guard had left behind. My thoughts took me back to the darkness just before dawn, when Hell Knight Marcone had fought beside me against the Titan.

If I was honest, he had saved my life. Maybe a couple of times. It went toward paying back the times I’d saved his, I guessed. Huh. I’d never stopped to think about how much Marcone and I had faced, if not together, then at least standing in the same place.

Mab stood by the shore.

She stood as tall as I did, with white hair swirling loose around her shoulders. Winter snow would have been jealous of how white it was. Her eyes were enormous and bright green for the moment. I knew that they could begin pulsing with glacial colors at any moment, depending on her mood.

“Explain,” she stated without inflection or greeting.

“I have no idea how this happened,” I replied honestly. “I’ve lived in Chicago for most of my adult life and never thought the genius loci of the area would notice me. Now, she says that my claim on her requires balance and I have Marcone’s stupid name branded on my arm. Is there anything you can tell me about what she did?”

Mab didn’t move, except for the slight breeze teasing the ends of her hair. I wasn’t even sure she breathed. Rather than making a smart comment when the silence continued, I waited. There was no point in trying to rush an immortal. I had a feeling Mab had to choose her words carefully.

Things always got complicated when you asked one of Sidhe for information. As her vassal, I was entitled to information that would keep me alive, but Mab wasn’t wired for speaking plain truth. Chicago’s claim on me made things worse, of course. The obligations involved would keep Mab from telling me everything she could because it was Chicago’s rightful place to tell me.

So, I kept my mouth shut and stood beside the Queen of Air and Darkness.

I had almost forgotten what my question was when she spoke again.

“The Baron is a satisfactory ally. I will accept this union.”

“Wait, what kind of union?” I asked. “There’s still a lot of blanks here.”

Mab took a few steps down the shore without speaking to me and vanished in a flurry of snowflakes that melted before they reached the ground. I leaned on my staff and snarled to myself.

I wished my brother was here. Thomas was a pain in the ass, as brothers must, but he could listen and occasionally make useful comments. Once he was finished laughing at me for once again making a binding involving a genius loci without knowing what I was getting into. It wasn’t even my idea this time.

My face burned as I thought about what Thomas might say now that I might be sort of married to Marcone.

I sighed heavily, gripped my staff hard, and headed home. I had a lot of work to do.


	7. Time Passes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry encounters some problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to heat up a little. *evil cackles*
> 
> Once again, beware of spoilers!
> 
> Please have a fantastic day!

The first night, I tossed and turned. It wasn’t restful, even if it was empty of my usual nightmares on nights like this. In fact, I wasn’t totally sure why I couldn’t sleep. I gave up trying at the crack of dawn and went for my morning run to clear my head. I’d been running for years but carrying the Winter mantle made it more important than ever. Once I was sure the aggression had been worn out for today, I went back home, trying not to think about the last run I’d been on with Thomas.

Maybe, if Marcone was my ally now, I could get him to help me look for Justine. She’d be having the baby soon and I really didn’t want to think about what the Walker possessing her had planned for my niece or nephew. Then again, I couldn’t be sure that Nemesis didn’t already have hooks into him. The only hint I had was that he was still acting like himself.

I’d thought the same thing about Justine, though.

I shoved those thoughts out of my head too, since there wasn’t room, and got down to business. In between arranging my slowly growing collection of belongings and keeping Maggie out of trouble, I had a wizardly arsenal to rebuild and a reputation in the city as someone who could help when no one else could.

A lot of people knew me from my ad in the phone book, but in a world where the people of Chicago had seen a Titan unleash havoc, I had a lot of work to do to gain trust.

The second night, I didn’t sleep at all. I tried, of course. I lay in bed, using every trick I’d ever learned to calm my mind and drift off. None of them worked.  
I sat up for a while, reading a paperback by candlelight. It had been a long time since I’d been able to just sit and read, but a jittery anxiety kept dragging my attention away from the pages. After a couple of hours, I set it aside and pulled on my robe. I needed it to stay warm in the subbasement that housed my lab.

Down there, I poked through my notes on the situation with Marcone and Chicago. My tests had been frustratingly unhelpful. All I could tell was that there was a powerful bond between us but attempts to discern its nature hadn’t panned out.

I needed him present to figure out what was going on.

Since I had nothing, I hadn’t bothered to call him, and he hadn’t contacted me. That was fine. I really didn’t want Namshiel looking at my daughter and getting ideas. It had been bad enough knowing Nicodemus wanted to corrupt one of my friend Michael’s kids when he tossed out the Coin of Lasciel, leaving me with a photocopied Fallen angel in my head for a few years.

When dawn came, I went for my run, frustrated and confused.

It was hard to get through the day without giving rein to my sleep-deprived wizardly grouchiness, but I finally managed it and tumbled into bed.

This was the third night and it was awful. My eyes refused to stay open, but my mind never slowed down. My thoughts jumped from one subject to the next without warning or logic. I lay trapped in a hellish limbo, wishing I had something that would put me to sleep. I’d have accepted a knock on the head if anyone offered it.

Morning found me groggy beyond the help of coffee, too tired to go for my morning run. The Winter mantle didn’t even bug me. Or if it did, I couldn’t register it. I gave up trying to do anything and spent the day reading to Maggie, until she took the book away because gibberish was coming out of my mouth.

She read to me for a while before getting bored of it and sliding off my lap to play with Mouse. I stirred enough to throw a ball for them a few times. It was some of the hardest work I’d ever done, but the kids enjoyed it.

I was just gathering myself for the massive effort getting up to make dinner would require when Maggie tugged my sleeve.

“Dad, there’s someone knocking on the door,” she said, worry beginning to pool in her eyes.

“I’ll take care of it, kiddo,” I tried to reassure her, but the words didn’t come out very clear. I smiled and heaved myself out of the armchair. I wasn’t in the right headspace to work any spells, so I gripped my staff and hoped the visitor would be a problem I could handle with a heavy length of wood.

No such luck; it was Marcone.

I think I stared at him bleary-eyed for a long moment before he made an impatient noise. That woke me up a little bit and I registered that he looked like hell.

He’d been bad before. I could still remember him hanging upside down waiting for a loup-garou to eat him. Could see him shivering and beaten on the island I would claim soon after. I’d seen a Titan break his neck.

The man on my doorstep looked like he’d been through most of it all over again. His eyes drooped with exhaustion, circled with dark shadows. His suit was rumpled, and his shoulders slumped.

My brain finally fired, and I remembered what I was supposed to do.

“Yeah, fine, come in.” I stepped aside and let him in.


	8. Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and John come to an agreement about several things.
> 
> Most important: who buys the coffee in this castle.

“Any idea what the hell is happening?” Marcone asked as I closed the door behind him.

“No. You?” Monosyllables had always been my friend when I was worn out.

“Wild surmises, nothing more.” Marcone ran a hand through his hair, leaving it disarrayed. “The problem of sleep is more urgent at the moment.”

I thought about that for a minute and concluded I had no idea what he was trying to say. “Huh?”

He tossed a look at me that clearly said I should have been smarter than this. “Judging by your lack of hostility or juvenile wit, I can only assume that you haven’t been able to sleep either. The spirit of Chicago desired us to be united, so I’m going to stay here and see if the situation improves.”

“The hell you are!” I snarled, anger blazing up to help me think. “Maggie lives here.”

Marcone ignored me and headed deeper into the castle. It was only then that I registered the nylon bag over his shoulder, presumably packed with essential belongings. He was planning to stay no matter what I tried to do about it.

I stalked after him, planning to hurl him bodily from the castle if I had to, but Thorned Namshiel must have done some funky time stuff to me, because Marcone was already cooking when I arrived in the kitchen. Or maybe I was still too tired to function properly.

Maggie came over, her presence preventing me from being able to haul out the intruder.

“Mister Marcone says you’re too tired to cook, Dad,” she whispered. “Is something wrong?”

“Not exactly, sweetie,” I said, picking her up and hugging her. “I have a lot of work going on and it’s keeping me awake. I’ll get better soon.”

She nodded, hiding her face in my neck. Still, she’d been able to talk to me, which was better than she usually did around strangers. Marcone must have been able to put her a little at ease.

I settled at the table with Maggie in my lap and lost track of time. I remember eating automatically, unsure what the food was apart from hot. I carried Maggie upstairs and tucked her in. Then I fell into bed and a sleep so deep it was like getting sucked into a black hole.

Marcone was in the kitchen when I came down for coffee in the morning. Despite crashing hard, I was still sluggish and groggy, and it took a moment to realize the coffee in my mug was not the usual generic grounds I got because they were cheap.

I fixed Marcone with a surly glare. “I didn’t say you could just hand me fancy coffee.”

“Your reflexive disdain for everything related to me is growing tiresome,” he said and shrugged. “At some point soon, you will have to accept that what’s between us will not go away and allow us to be of use to each other.”

“You couldn’t buy me the day we met, and nothing’s changed in twelve years. I’m not going to forget who you are just because of coffee.”

“I don’t expect you to. It isn’t my intention to alter who you are. In fact, I believe that your fundamental identity is the reason Chicago chose to bind us together. All I ask is that you allow me to be who I am.” He regarded me with calm green eyes that I couldn’t quite meet.

Marcone was a predator, a survivor. There were things we had in common, but I’d never considered that they would be enough to let the differences slide into complementary positions. The worst part was, I could imagine it. I couldn’t have a handful of years ago, but I was a monster now too. I was a father, with all the dangers and responsibilities that came with it.

My mind reeled and I took a sip of coffee to try and settle myself. I’d never thought that I’d form a team with John Marcone. Then again, I’d never thought I would become Mab’s henchman, commit genocide, or watch supernatural war break out in the streets of my city, either.

“Nothing about what you do touches Maggie,” I said, granite in my voice. “Not even an overheard conversation, not even Namshiel and the Fallen. If you put her in the crosshairs, I damn well expect you to pull her out.” My breath plumed in front of me and ice flashed across the surface of my coffee. The Winter mantle was a predator too, geared toward viciously ensuring the protection of its own. My subconscious had already proved once that he would do just about anything to protect my offspring.

Maggie would be as safe as I could make her for as long as I drew breath and beyond.

“Agreed,” Marcone replied quietly, but I could hear bedrock in his voice. I knew the lengths he would go to, the things he had done to right his own wrongs. I remembered a girl, bleeding from a bullet meant for the man sitting in front of me.

The sights of a soulgaze were impossible to forget.

An impish grin suddenly crossed his face and made my heart sink. When the monsters started looking like that, I knew I was standing on thin ice.

“As long as I live here, I’m handling the tab for the coffee,” John Marcone said and dropped a damn wink on me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Harry. His brain is not equipped to handle most of the things that are happening to him.
> 
> Have a fantastic day, everybody!


	9. Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry thought the insomnia was gone.
> 
> He was badly mistaken.

The days that followed fell into a pattern. I’d wake up from mostly restful sleep, check Maggie to make sure the Fallen angel in the house hadn’t done anything to her, and stumble into the kitchen for coffee. Marcone was inevitably there to hand it over, smirking all over his face. I’d ignore him until Maggie came down and then we’d make breakfast. I quickly discovered he was a better cook than me, unfailingly patient with Maggie when she wanted a turn at the stove.

The scariest part was that it was easy. After about a week, it felt natural and comfortable, just like living with Thomas. The castle had enough space that I never felt crowded and Marcone was considerably neater than my brother. The thought gave me pangs of guilt when I remembered the condition Thomas was in now.

He left for most of the day after breakfast, no doubt to see to the expanding of his empire. The only person associated with him that I ever saw was Sigrun Gard, the Valkyrie on payroll.

I focused on Maggie and my wizardly concerns. There was no telling if Chicago’s interference had removed the need for me to eventually throw down with my new roommate, so worrying about the future would only distract me.

That’s not to say I didn’t think about it. Plans brewed in my mind, preparing for when the knives went back to flying toward me. At least I currently had someone I might be able to count on to pitch in when problems came.

My wizardly progress was slow. The fire had destroyed all of my gear in the lab, years of accumulation and experiments. The upheaval in the supernatural world made it difficult to replace, especially since I was no longer a wizard of the White Council. Technically, I wasn’t allowed to do most of what I was planning to do, but I had never bowed to bullies and wouldn’t start now.

The insomnia crept back by the time another week had passed. It was slower this time and I hardly noticed it. Spring thunderstorms started rolling over the city, recalling the first time I’d crossed paths with Marcone.

The Shadowman, a black sorcerer that had been a serious threat to my younger self, had been using thunderstorms and rituals to power his evil plans, including murdering one of Marcone’s enforcers. I had narrowly escaped meeting the same fate and managed to stop an attempt to cut into the organization at the same time.

Wow, that had been a long time ago. Having Maggie was a good reminder that I wasn’t the same kid I used to be, but it was brought home a lot clearer these days.

I put down the sleeplessness as a side effect of the storms. All that chaotic power swirling overhead could be hard to ignore, even behind protections to blunt my sense of it. The wild thunder gave Maggie nightmares the first time and I spent hours holding her while the storm passed.

Tonight, the thunder hadn’t bothered her. I had my door cracked and an ear out in case she woke up and a book to keep me company in the meantime. A gentle golden light spread from the lamp on a milk crate next to my bed.

Don’t judge, it was cheaper than buying a nightstand and did the same job just fine.

Lightning flashed behind the curtains, distracting me from the pages for a moment. I wasn’t used to having windows big enough to really see anything. I’d lived most of my adult life in a basement apartment with tiny sunken windows.

Before I could go back to reading, my door creaked open. John Marcone stepped into the light, dressed in a plain t-shirt and pajama pants, bare feet silent on the floor. His hair was mussed, but his eyes were alert.

My eyes crossed from confusion. I’d only seen him dressed casually a handful of times, either because he didn’t want to be recognized or things were going to hell. Now he was standing in my bedroom.

“What the hell are you doing?” I finally asked, unable to come up with a good reason on my own.

“Can’t sleep. Apparently, moving in together wasn’t good enough for Chicago.” He spoke evenly, but he also didn’t meet my eyes.

“No. No way. Not happening. I am not going to share a bed with you,” I blurted. Just the idea of it made me want to pull the covers over my head and perish from embarrassment. This was worse than the time I found out my brother was a gay, French hairstylist.

“Don’t be childish. It’s not as if you have to be afraid that I’m going to do terrible things to you,” he snapped, eyes flashing. It was hard to tell in the dark, under his faded boater’s tan, but he might have flushed slightly.

I felt like my face was about to melt off, but I did have a genuine concern. “What about Spinyboy living in your brain? I’m not taking the chance that he grows thorns while you’re sleeping and shreds me.”

The incredibly fine silver chain where Marcone kept his Coin glittered as he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll admit, Namshiel doesn’t like you,” he said. “You used soulfire against him and brought the Knights of the Cross to capture him. However, his temper has cooled over the last several years. Now, he has an interest in keeping you alive, to see what you’ll do with the Archangel’s gift. He’s curious how a mortal would handle it.”

That sent a chill down my spine. Namshiel had been furious about the soulfire, though I hadn’t known what it was at the time. I wasn’t sure his curiosity was a better alternative.

“Nope, still not happening. I don’t trust either of you, so get out of my room!”

Marcone crossed his arms and leaned his weight on one hip, fixing me with a steady stare. “It’s hardly polite to murder a man in his own home, Harry. If I wish to continue as a guest here, much less to make it a home of my own, it would be in my best interest to behave with decorum. In this matter, however, I will sleep on the floor. Then, you would be a poor host for failing to provide proper accommodations.”

That killed my next complaint before I could speak it. The Old World hospitality was more important than ever following the near breaking of the Accords. If I defied it, there might be consequences, from Mab even if no one else found out. She would know, due to the connection between Queen and Knight.

I wasn’t sure what the rules were in a situation like this, but it might be better not to take chances.

Reluctantly, I slid a bit to the side and made room for him. Marcone nodded and settled next to me without looking in my direction. I had a suspicion that he felt just as awkward about it, under the attitude. He turned his back to me, careful to avoid touching me, and evidently went to sleep.

Bemused and uncomfortable, I read for a while longer, listening to the thunder, until my eyes got heavy. Unable to stay awake, I blew out the lamp and fell asleep with the Baron of Chicago breathing steadily beside me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gleeful cackles* The gayness has been doubled!
> 
> Hope you enjoy and have a fantastic day!


	10. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the best nights sleep in about a month, Harry has a lot of confused thoughts. It's time to go to the beach!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, spoilers for Battle Ground. Major ones.  
> I apologize for the emotional punch in the gut. There was no real way around it this time.
> 
> Thanks so much for sticking with me this long!

When I woke up in the morning, Mister lay next to me rather than on my legs the way he usually did. My spare pillow, which usually got bunched up against the wall when Maggie wasn’t sitting next to me, lay neatly above the big grey cat, indented slightly.

It took my groggy brain a moment to remember why and explain the faint scent of cologne. I shot upright and looked around to make doubly sure Marcone had left. There was no sign of him, and the rapid pounding of my heart negated the need of coffee. I just couldn’t face him until I’d had some time to sift through my suddenly tangled feelings.

The mere memory of him coming into my room last night was enough to make the Winter mantle grumble in my mind and perk its ears up, a disturbing development. So, I got dressed in my running clothes, checked Maggie, and headed on my morning run without crossing paths.

Once I was moving, calm started to settle over me. My feet pounded across the sand, setting a rhythm that left me plenty of space for thought. The first thing to consider was a practical one: could I handle insomnia from Chicago’s bond to keep Marcone out of my room? I wanted to say yes, but I knew my limits. My daughter needed her dad firing on all cylinders, not to mention that the spirit of Chicago might take it badly if her defenders couldn’t do their jobs.

I hated to admit it, but Marcone might have the right solution. Of course, there had to be a way around it. I’m a wizard; cheating the rules is in the job description. Maybe just being in the same room was enough. I could convince him to get his own bed. Probably.

My biggest worry was what the Winter mantle was doing to me. I was used to its urges right now: physical pleasure, violence, the odd bit of territorial rage. My coping skills were growing and adapting to address concerns as they came up. But it had never started licking its chops over a man before.

I’d been around the Sidhe, the high nobles of the Court. They were inhumanly beautiful, males and females alike. Controlling myself around some of the women I’d crossed paths with had been demanding work, but while I’d noticed the males (it would take a blind man not to) they hadn’t done anything for me. If the mantle was changing that, I might have to get a little upset.

If this was because of Chicago, I was in a stickier spot. I knew extraordinarily little about the nature of the connection, which made working around it much harder. Mab’s words the last time we’d spoken came back to me, reinforcing the possibility that Chicago’s idea of linking her protectors together was to make us lovers.

Well, that wasn’t going to happen.

Setting aside the fact that I was fairly sure I’d never been gay; it just didn’t feel like a good idea. Last time I’d checked, unwillingly, Marcone had a girlfriend, Ms. Demeter. Her real name was Helen Beckitt, and, among other things, she had shot me in the hip, tried to ruin Marcone’s organization with magic drugs, and started working for him. She hated him for getting her daughter killed and he couldn’t tell her the worse truth that the girl was in a coma instead.

Much too complicated for me to bumble into. On my side of things, I had a daughter whose mother I had murdered and a girlfriend I would never see again since she had died while fighting at my side and been taken to become an Einherjar.

I stumbled as pain seized my entire chest and went down on my knees. Rough, dry sobs wracked my throat. Karrin. I could still smell her blood as it spilled from her body, hear her dry laugh when I had done something stupid, feel her small strong hand squeezing mine.

The Winter mantle couldn’t do anything for that pain. Even if it could, I didn’t want it to.

When I felt more in control, the sun was peeking over the horizon. I got to my feet and headed home. I didn’t have the answers I’d come out for and turmoil threatened my emotional composure, making it unlikely I’d be able to come up with them any time soon.

Marcone was cooking in the kitchen by the time I came down from my morning shower. I declined his expensive coffee and got a Coke out of the icebox. Mister headbutted my leg and I poured him a share of it before settling down at the table. Maggie beamed at me.

“Dad, Mister Marcone says he isn’t working today, and we should go to the park! Can we?” she begged with big dark eyes. I didn’t look too closely, to avoid drawing my daughter into a soulgaze she’d never recover from.

“Sure, pumpkin,” I replied, though it really didn’t feel like a good idea for the three of us to be seen in public. It was rare that Maggie wanted to go where there might be a lot of people, and I wanted to encourage her to feel braver. I still remembered how nervous both of us had been when I took her to the zoo.

Maggie cheered and gave me a big hug, her excitement clearly too great to hold inside. I let myself smile over her and concealed my sinking feelings. Marcone was going to corner me for a conversation while we were out, I just knew it.

I had no idea how I was going to handle that. Without solid conclusions, my only response could be embarrassed spluttering, which wasn’t good. Predators seized on weakness, it was just in their nature, and I did not want Marcone to start thinking he could bulldoze me with suggestive comments whenever he wanted something.


	11. Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wizardly Winter Knight and the Baron of Chicago go for a walk in the park!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up again! i have a plan to put up the rest of the chapters in a hurry, since it's almost Halloween. So, watch out for spoilers!
> 
> Have a fantastic day!

After breakfast, I made sure Maggie put on her coat, clipped Mouse’s lead to his collar, and wished I’d been able to carve a new blasting rod. I couldn’t carry Murphy’s favorite SIG, which I’d dubbed Backup, around in my pocket without a permit. I needed both hands for the leash and Maggie, so I had to leave my staff behind. I felt naked heading to the park with Marcone without my magical arsenal.

For his part, he strolled down the street on the other side of Mouse, hands in his pockets like he didn’t have a care in the world. Annoyingly, he’d chosen casual clothes again, making it hard to keep my focus on what I was doing. Marcone in jeans was just weird.

Maggie clung to my hand and walked sedately, but I could still feel her excitement and desire to race around. Kids. I was envious of the energy and proud of her for having so much of it. I worried so much about her small size and whether she was growing properly. It was good to see her acting like a normal kid.

At the park, I let Mouse off the leash and let them run around. Maggie pulled a colorful disk of plastic from her pocket and started throwing it, racing Mouse to be the first one to catch it. I shot a sidelong glance at Marcone.

“You got her a Frisbee?”

“I didn’t see a reason not to,” he answered. “It’ll be nice to have over the summer, at least before the temperature gets too high.”

Perfectly logical. I reminded myself it would be unwise to punch him in public and shook my head.

“Dresden, I know nothing about our arrangement is familiar or comfortable. Rather than bewailing that fact and struggling against it, aren’t you curious where it could go? Our power, united in similar purpose?”

“Well, your power is based on ruining people’s lives. I’d rather not have anything to do with it,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t notice that there was less fire in the words than the last time I’d said them.

“My God, you are stubborn. Has it escaped your notice that you are now the personal assassin of a being who draws power from the suffering of others?”

The truth of it felt like a knife sliding into my flesh. I really didn’t have the right to look down on Marcone now, no matter how much I tried to convince myself I was better than him. I tried to feel remorse for what Mab made me do, but so far, most of what she had asked me to do had turned out to be what I would have done anyway.

I hadn’t wanted to work with Nicodemus, but in the end, he had fled with his power shattered. Killing Maeve had dropped me into a seething mire of complications, but I had thwarted an assault on Demonreach. Working with Lara last year had given me options for saving my brother I wouldn’t have had on my own.

The collateral damage was what kept me awake at night. Molly, forced to become the Winter Lady and possibly becoming something inhuman. So many people I hadn’t been able to save. Justine, missing because I hadn’t known what was wrong with her until it was almost too late.

“So, what are you trying to do?” I finally asked in a dull voice. “If you think you can leverage this bond and seduce me away from Mab, no dice. The only way out of my job is in a box. Do you think getting close to my daughter and throwing money around will change anything I have to do?”

John put a hand on my shoulder and turned me to face him. Those faded green eyes stared up at me, earnest and honest.

“Harry, is it so hard for you to believe maybe I just want the same thing you have? The only family I can lay claim to are criminals who look to me for protection, nothing more. If I gave them the barest hint that I couldn’t support them, they would try to kill me. My oldest friend died to protect me, and I can’t even bury him. I’ve lived a cold life, one of my choosing, and I’m almost frozen. Chicago has given me a chance, just a chance, to try and build something worthwhile. To have a person or two in my life that actually give a damn what happens to me. I’ve seen your soul. I know that you would go to hell and back to secure that life for a stranger. I know you have before. All I’m asking is that you try. Just accept there might be a chance between us to make this jungle less dangerous for us and the people we want to protect.”

Pressure grew in my throat and behind my eyes. I looked away, back to where Maggie was playing and inwardly growled that I was not going to let him make me cry. But I could feel the aching loneliness in his voice. I’d lived like that for a long time, running myself ragged to help people who were afraid of me and knowing the only thing waiting in my cold apartment was a cat.

Monsters are easy to face, when you don’t count the mind-bending madness they bring in their wake. People make everything complicated. There’s nothing more human than regret. I could almost hear John Marcone standing beside me and regretting, not what he had done, but the toll it had taken on him. A little girl had taken a bullet for him and he’d vowed never again, without realizing how that vow would freeze away anything that might have made his life bright and uncalculated.

“So, the Winter Knight and the demon lord of Chicago shack up, huh?” I said. “Hell’s bells, it sounds like a bad joke.”

“Well, bad jokes are a constant with you,” John replied. “I suppose the situation would be somewhat familiar.”

I shot him a wizardly scowl, which did nothing to blunt his easy grin. It made my heart go pitter-pat, entirely without my permission.

There’s nothing more dangerous than humanity. Tethering mine to his and his to mine had to potentially to royally screw me over, but it was Chicago’s will. All things considered, though, there were worse people I could throw my lot in with. At least I knew John had a soul and what it looked like. There was a sort of comfort in predators. They would always act like predators.

I had a lot of experience with them.


	12. Homely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life in the castle improves immensely!

After that, something relaxed between the crime lord and me. He slept at my side and the troubling insomnia went away. Something, centered around the words on my arm, settled into place like a piece of a puzzle and made my inner self feel more peaceful.

Things started changing around the castle, subtlety, so I didn’t notice at first. Suddenly, all the curtains matched, though I had been forced to buy them piecemeal at thrift stores when I had time. My threadbare comforter was replaced with a huge navy blue one loaded with feathers. The battered, limited wardrobe I owned of ratty t-shirts and faded jeans gained a handful of nicer button ups, slacks, and t-shirts without holes.

Foods I never bought appeared on the table: vegetables, actual steamed vegetables, and fish, served on beds of seasoned rice that I had never learned how to make. I was never able to catch John bringing any of it in either, though I lurked around a few times to see if I could. He was sneaky.

Maggie adored him, once she got used to his presence. Turns out, John spoke fluent Spanish and they would hang out having secret conversations I couldn’t completely follow. It did wonders for her various problems, so I didn’t complain about it too much. But every time I passed them sitting and giggling on the couch that had mysteriously appeared, it made me grind my teeth to imagine what he might be telling her.

Not that it would be anything truly bad. John had strict beliefs about what children should and should not be exposed to. I knew he wouldn’t try to brainwash Maggie, but he wasn’t above telling her about the more embarrassing things I’d done. The last thing I needed was to be teased for blowing up trash cans and falling off moving trains.

It was strange for a while, living in a house that ran smoothly. For the first time, it wasn’t just me in charge of feeding myself and I could actually count on getting two or three meals per day. Mouse and I helped Maggie with her homework at the dinner table while John cooked, and it felt eerily like normal life. I’d never had one before.

In a time when I was grieving the loss of most of my friends, I gained one I’d never expected to have. The surprise of it took my breath away sometimes.

I should have known that domestic bliss doesn’t last when you’re a wizard.


	13. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late at night, Harry and John grow a little closer together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, everybody! In honor of Harry's birthday, I'll be posting the last two chapters. I hope everybody has a safe and fantastic holiday!

A wolf grappled with me in the dark, fangs coated with red and seeking for my throat. Dark magic thrills sizzled in my veins, an addiction I thought I’d left in the past. A tiny man with wide black eyes screamed in fury and madness, trying to murder my daughter. Hideous monsters of every stripe pursued me through shadowed streets littered with rubble.

A crib lay on its side, coated with blood.

“Harry! Wake up, Harry!” Hands shook me, gripping the loose collar of the t-shirt I slept in.

Heart pounding, brain scrambled, I couldn’t take a moment to think. Icy power flashed through my mind, centering itself around my right hand. Before I could release it, a liquid voice spoke a word I didn’t catch, and the power drained away.

A match struck and golden light flared. John lit the oil lamp on the bedside table and leaned over me again, resting a hand on my chest.

“Harry, you’re safe. I promise, nothing’s getting past the defenses and even if it did, it’s not getting past me. Just breathe.”

Slowly, the sense in his words trickled past the wild fear. Something tight in my chest relaxed and I could draw in one huge breath after another. Long moments passed and John still leaned over me, one hand making circles on my chest and the other smoothing hair off my forehead.

It had been more than a year since someone had done that. Nicodemus had done so much damage to Karrin before the end that most contact between us had been my hands on her skin, every motion as gentle as I knew how to be. Before that, the last person to really touch me had been Mab. I didn’t count her, for reasons. Plenty of them.

I could have blamed it on the Winter mantle, which was, admittedly, quite interested in the warmth spreading from John’s solid, steady hands. The truth was that I burrowed against his chest for regular reasons. I was afraid and he was there, offering safety and comfort. It’s a fact that humans are made to be touched. From the moment we enter the world, hands are what make us warm and safe. Every time a child feels cold or hunger, pain or fear, the hands of the people they trust are there to make it go away. It doesn’t always work, but I’m a wizard. I know the power that lies in things most people never give a second thought.

John shifted, stretching out on his back and pulling me across his chest. Now his hands made circles on my lower back and drew gentle nails down the back of my neck. I lay there and listened to him breathe, to the steady rhythm of his heart.

Mister curled up against my calf and purred like an engine. A few hot tears may have slipped down my nose and into John’s shirt, but I didn’t keep track of them. I just let quiet and safety sink into my bones and chase away the monsters that had tried to destroy me.

“Sorry I woke you up,” I mumbled. My head was tucked into the crook of his neck and I could feel his smile against the top of my head.

“No need to apologize. I think it’s part of my purpose here to help you through these nightmares. You’ve seen so much evil, more than your fair share. Someone has to be here for you.”

“Says the guy who got me into half of it.” A laugh bubbled under the words, cutting the sting out of them. Damn it, I was getting way too close to him.

“I didn’t ask Miss Gard to make you rescue me from that island,” John retorted peevishly. “I’m grateful, of course, but it wasn’t her duty to do it.”

“I was the only Accorded power in Chicago at the time. She must not have thought there was anyone else to turn to. Besides, who else could you sucker into that kind of mess?” I yawned widely, starting to feel sleepy again. A thought crossed my mind and made me frown. “You used magic to dispel that instinctive strike, didn’t you?”

“That’s right. Don’t start launching ‘fake wizard’ accusations again. I didn’t feel like trying to treat myself for frostbite.”

“I wasn’t going to.” It might have made me uneasy if I wasn’t so relaxed. Grounding energy was second nature to me by now and had saved my life a few times when I’d released unwanted power and hexed explosives nearby. As many times as I had done it to other people, it hadn’t happened very much to me. I decided to focus on the positive, which was I didn’t have to help treat him for frostbite, and not the fact that my chances against him were looking worse than ever.

As my eyes dropped closed and I fell back asleep a tiny voice whispered that I might not have to fight him at all. That fighting him would be as painful as other sacrifices I’d made in the past.


	14. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and John go for a run on the beach. Predictably, things go wrong and Chicago's resident wizard has to run off some thugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is here!
> 
> Thanks very much to everyone who has followed and enjoyed this story so far!
> 
> Have a safe and fantastic day!

John was sitting on the edge of the bed when I woke up. I didn’t actually register that he was there until I came back from the bathroom and started pulling out my running clothes.

“Good morning, Harry,” he said. I did not jump and whirl around. Don’t believe him if he says something different.

“I’d like to join you this morning, if you don’t mind,” he continued, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

“Um, sure, I guess.” Master of witty dialogue, I am not before my morning coffee. I finished getting dressed and grabbed my weight vest. Being the Winter Knight comes with a cool, if scarily inconvenient ability to not feel pain. I used it to boost my endurance while running so that I could get away quickly from things that wanted to kill me. The exercise made it harder for the mantle to affect my thoughts with aggression at other times, too.

John was quiet as I drove to the park where I usually did my runs. Normally, he sniffed and refused any time I offered him a ride in my ridiculously dramatic hearse, complete with purple flames designs, but this time he didn’t say a word. I missed the Blue Beetle, but there was a certain solidity to this car that made me feel safe from bombs and hit and runs.

It was only after we got to the park that my brain woke up enough to notice that he was wearing baggy gym shorts and a tight athletic windbreaker. My head twanged from the shock at the same time the Winter mantle growled over the shape of his ass and I looked away quickly.

I focused on stretching, which wasn’t necessary, and catching my breath, which was. John was my friend and I did not go around drooling over my friends. I really didn’t have abrupt flashes of imagination of knocking my friends to the ground and biting them until the marks made it obvious they were mine.

Nope. I wasn’t going to do that. I set off down the beach at a slow jog, warming up my muscles until I could shift up to a higher gear. John followed me, slightly behind as well as to the side. Thankfully, this spared me from having him in my field of vision and I could pretend he wasn’t there. The pounding of my feet drove every other thought out of my head and left me with empty clarity to enjoy the cool air before the sun came up and made everything hot.

John ran down before I did, dropping behind and going back to the Munstermobile for a bottle of water from the backseat. I noticed as I turned and let it drop from my focus. I wasn’t done yet.

Shouts broke my concentration. I stumbled in the loose sand and came to a halt, whipping my head around to track where the noise was coming from. Gunshots cracked and one bullet hissed past me, a plume of sand exploding where it landed.

The sun had risen, making the flashes of light from bullets hitting a shield harder to see. I’d had a lot of practice, so I saw it anyway. John dropped to one knee, struggling to hold up the defensive magic. He might have cheated to gain knowledge of things I wouldn’t want to try for another fifty years, but he just didn’t have the raw magical muscle for this kind of thing.

I slipped out of the vest and sprinted forward. All the exercise did nothing to stop Winter from howling into my thoughts, rabid to attack these goons trying to harm one of mine. I skidded to a stop at John’s side and raised my right hand.

“Arctis,” I snarled and released my will. Ice snapped into being in a curved wall as tall as I was. I dashed around it to hunt down the shooters.

There were four of them, dressed in military surplus gear and holding hunting rifles. Not professionals. I logged the details without them making an impression and lunged for the closest one.

A loop of black thread, as thin as a piano wire and infinitely stronger, caught me around the chest and yanked me to the side. The gunmen screamed and fled. I snarled and tried to scramble up to chase them, but weight fell across me.

John wrestled my arms above my head and held them there until I calmed down and stopped fighting him. A second pair of violet eyes and an angelic symbol had appeared on his forehead. The next step was thick black thorns sprouting from his body, so I clubbed back the Winter mantle and went still before I got stabbed. We stared at each other and panted for a long moment.

“You got reckless,” I wheezed. Post-action shock slithered into my limbs and wizardly cackles struggled to escape from my throat. “Since when does Johnny Marcone go to the beach without his pet Valkyrie and a gang of troubleshooters?”

John closed his eyes for a moment and the eyes of the Fallen angel blinked out. Then he stared down at me with an unreadable expression. Something about it made me feel like a teenager again, jittery and unsure what was about to happen.

He kissed me; parched lips insistent without being rough. I responded instinctively, pulling my wrists free of his grip and burying my hands in his hair. It went on for longer than it should have, considering neither of us had fully caught our breath. Finally, John raised his head, putting a hand on my chest to keep me from following him.

“Why should I have anything to worry about? You were with me, after all,” he said. My scrambled brain took a moment to remember what I had said before he effectively distracted me.

“Heh, funny. I won’t be with you every time idiots with guns show up.”

John pulled me to my feet. Disarrayed bits of dark hair hung over his forehead, lifting a handful of years from his face. His calloused fingers traced across his name, branded into my forearm, before he reached up and brushed a gentle kiss across my lips.

“I know you’ll be there enough to make a difference,” he said and smirked with satisfaction.

I rolled my eyes, but I also held his hand the whole way back to my car.


End file.
